An Eight's on the Cards
by alittlewhos-this
Summary: Jimmy decides to amuse himself by adding something interesting to their usual card game. Post 2012's Christmas special.


Jimmy stood in the middle of his room, debating. His extremities had decided before his mind seemed to, and he was going through the bottom drawer before he knew quite if he should. Still, the prospect of another evening's card game bored him to tears - it was fine at first, when Mr Barrow talked to them and broke up the monotony of Alfred's monopoly on Jimmy's conversation. But the talk soon faded into near silence. He or Mr. Barrow would win every hand and Alfred would look befuddled at this turn of events.

It was Alfred's stupid face that pushed him into the decision, really.

He grabbed in the back of the drawer, amid a pile of handkerchiefs, and brought out another deck of cards. He'd gotten them in France, and they ranged from 'artistic' to pornographic as the value of the card grew higher. He pondered which to take.

He opted for an 8. He didn't actually want to give Alfred a heart attack, just shock him. This particular 8 stared back with a saucy grin on her face and her legs spread to the photographer. A mild heart attack would be fine, Jimmy reasoned, as he slipped the card into the other, boring deck.

Rather than proferring the cards at the usual hour, Jimmy stayed at the piano and played snatches of whatever happened into his head.

"D'ya want to play?" Alfred asked him, finally. Jimmy turned to glance around the hall, but saw Anna sewing by the dying fire.

"Yes. I want to finish this, though."

"The Jimmy Kent songbook? I've heard about 80 songs," Thomas laughed.

"It makes for good company," Anna said.

He played I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles twice.

"On that cheerful note, I think I ought to be going. Mr Bates will wonder what's kept me so late!"

"Tell him you just couldn't break away from me."

"Not very likely," she laughed. "Good-night, Thomas, Alfred. _James_."

Jimmy eyed her as she made her way out the door. Thomas turned to look where Jimmy was staring before turning back.

"Is that something we should be concerned about?" He smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

Thomas shook his head. "You'll wind up Mr. Tufton if you don't watch out." He went back to his book.

Jimmy got up from the piano and sat down next to Alfred, across from Thomas. "Gin?"

Jimmy reached into his pocket to retrieve the cards and felt Thomas staring at him. This wasn't unusual, but he didn't look away when Jimmy caught his eye because this time he had been staring with suspicion. Jimmy ignored it.

Alfred was staring into the distance with flummoxed look on his face.

"Is it that hard for you to have a thought?" Jimmy asked, sounding disgusted. They hadn't even begun yet. Maybe every night from 11 to 12.30 Alfred just gave over to his natural state of confusion and Jimmy was always unlucky enough to bear the brunt of it.

Alfred shook himself into the present. "What?"

"We're going to play gin."

"Oh."

He moved his chair to the end of the table as Jimmy shuffled and dealt the the cards.

They didn't even attempt conversation. They were all tired, but a game had become something of a nightcap. The first hand had gone off without a hitch, never running into the extra card. Jimmy was getting annoyed with it, when he heard Alfred scoff.

"I think you forgot to put that card in your sleeve," he said, pointedly.

"It doesn't take that much effort to beat you, you ninny. I lost a card from this deck so I swapped it out."

"You still know what it is."

"Just take it," Jimmy said, rolling his eyes. "You'll need it."

Alfred took one from the pile of cast-offs.

Thomas looked at the unmatched card for a moment before he slid it towards him. He picked it up and when he saw what it was, he gave a startled laugh, putting his free hand over his mouth to stifle the volume. He stared intently at a 9 of hearts.

Jimmy looked at him, his expression all innocence. "What's so funny, Mr Barrow?"

"I really don't need this card." Jimmy snorted.

"Put it down, then," Alfred said, bemused.

"Oh, just give to Alfred. We both already know what it is, anyway. Only way he's bloody likely to win."

"I don't want pity cards. I'm doing fine. I'm holding my own."

Jimmy looked desperate in Thomas's direction, trying frantically to not laugh and spoil everything. He kicked him. Thomas blinked and looked down until he'd pulled himself together. "I'm sure you are," he said, with only a slight waiver in his voice.

Alfred had missed this exchange, staring at his cards with a growing frown. He shrugged, defeated. "Maybe I could use a hand. Give us it over."

Jimmy smiled when Thomas had become the absolute image of distaste for a blink, though it hadn't curtailed his nearly shaking with suppressed laughter. Thomas plucked the card up with two fingers and extended it to Alfred.

Alfred stared at the card as though it might bite him.

"It's hardly life or death, just take the bloody thing," Jimmy snapped.

Alfred proceeded to take the bloody thing.

He had already put it neatly at the end of his hand when he actually _saw_ it. Even then, it took a moment to register. Jimmy & Thomas both knew the precise moment because, apropos of nothing, Alfred leapt up, knocking his chair over, and dropped the cards as though he'd been scalded.

Thomas and Jimmy both tried to restrain themselves, but laughter bubbled over, all the more for the wait.

"It' not...That's..." He drew himself up ever higher and looked seriously at Jimmy. "You can't have a thing like that. What if one of the maids saw it?"

"Why would a maid be sneaking through my belongings, Mr. Carson?"

Alfred slumped a little, his brief-lived haughtiness abated. He looked at the card again, somewhat transfixed. "Still," he mumbled, "it's not - "

"You can keep that one."

"Really?" Alfred looked up, pleased. The other two redoubled their laughter at Alfred's about-face. "Fine. I'm going to bed," he huffed, but didn't move. He then grabbed the card and nearly ran out of the servant's hall.

"Ever the subtle one," Thomas said, eyes following Alfred. "If," he started, turning back to Jimmy, "you ever felt like going out of service with a bang, you could always slip of those into a deck and challenge Carson to snap."

"You'd get a promotion." Jimmy smiled at him and gathered up the remaining cards, aware of Thomas silently watching his hands.

"Did those come as a whole deck?"

"Yes. Why? Fancy giving a few a try?" Jimmy cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

"No," Thomas said, feeling flecks of heat dapple his face."I was just curious. Fifty-two seems a bit much." He shrugged.

Jimmy stood and returned the cards to his pocket. He shrugged back and looked at Thomas squarely. "I do like a variety, Mr. Barrow."


End file.
